


The World That Melts Away

by mmmdraco



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 08:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Youth and its rival: experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World That Melts Away

**Author's Note:**

> In clearing out an old hard drive, I found two pieces of a very old Hikago round robin that I wrote. The first one was nothing spectacular, but the second one had some merit as a standalone, so I dusted it off and sanded off a few rough edges.
> 
> Before reading, know that there are several references to Hikaru/Akira/Kiyoharu in this.

Yashiro glared at Ogata through narrowed eyes as he sat in the passenger seat of the other man's car. The effect was marred by the fact that Ogata had grabbed his jaw first and pulled him somewhat closer. "I hate it that no one wants to tell me anything. I know that I'm not a big part of your little group here, but I think I deserve to at least know what the fuck is going on when it involves me."

And, suddenly, the world melted away. Ogata had thrown off his seatbelt and come at Yashiro with a plunge of movement. He infiltrated the boy's mouth and began to touch him and taste him. Yashiro grunted as he bore the pressure of that first kiss. And as nimble fingers played him like a Hand of God, he neglected to think of the situation. He forgot to push off the perverted older man and coalesced to his kisses. They blended in to his soul to fill in the places that time had worn away. There was a sense of belonging that Yashiro found in Ogata's arms. It wasn't like his brief time with Hikaru and Akira. He was not a third wheel. All of the attention was being lavished on him. And even though he wasn't reciprocating beyond a few scant movements of his lips, Ogata was progressing as though he was.

And, in a way, Yashiro didn't mind. He wasn't a virgin, and while Ogata was a pervy old man, he wasn't _really_ old, and wasn't unattractive, and wasn't making him feel bad about this. And so he gave his consent. He unbuttoned Ogata's shirt and then took off his own seatbelt. The metal connector crashed against the window, momentarily startling Ogata who briefly looked up and then, breathing heavily, took control of Yashiro's mouth again, crushing their bodies together as he palmed the boy's shoulder blades. 

Yashiro pulled away and licked his lips. "Why... I don't think I should want this like I do right now."

Ogata's eyes opened a bit wider. "It's okay to want it. Just know that, from now on, I'll never take you for granted."

And Yashiro fell into his arms again. He'd never been one to fall for pretty words or pretty faces, but he needed it now. Even if it meant never being able to look Ogata in the face again, he needed this more than anything. He'd rather he unable to face Ogata than continue to be unable to face Akira and Hikaru. And, Yashiro thought as Ogata bit gently at the base of his neck, maybe he'd have a great orgasm that would leave him drained for several hours that would allow him to think rationally about the Hikaru/Akira situation without reacting below the belt.

Ogata reached over the gear shift and tugged at Yashiro's belt. Once it was in a position he could get to, he unbuckled it and attacked the fasteners beneath. It was several moments later that Ogata managed to coax out Yashiro's erection. But, once he did, he was mesmerized. Though he'd fantasized about having a brief affair with Akira, and possibly Hikaru, he was unprepared to be truly reminded of the beauty of youth. Such a proud erection deserved to be worshipped, and Ogata felt like a worthy servant when he pushed Yashiro back in his seat and leaned over to take Yashiro's cock in his mouth. He let his hands wander and closed his eyes to disregard the steam and smudges on his glasses. He reveled in the panted moans that assaulted his ears and the passion-tense hands that buried themselves in his hair and the youth-quick hips that drummed a rhythm heard not too long before against his chin and cheekbones.

And it was youth again that spent the moment like monthly allowance -- altogether too soon. Ogata's cheeks burned with the evidence of Yashiro's passion. He swallowed and soothed Yashiro's softening cock. He put him back together like a broken teacup and let him rest gently in the embrace of the car seat. He reached over and grabbed the boy's seatbelt and buckled him in, and then did the same to his own. Only then did he realize that there were still cars passing by him and he could barely see them. The windows had fogged up along with his glasses. He took them off briefly and cleaned them on the hem of his unbuttoned shirt. Then, he reminded himself to be amazed. He'd had the car in drive the whole while and had never taken his foot off the brake. Slowly, he eased back into traffic (which was considerably lighter now) and headed home. Regardless of where Yashiro needed to go, he was going to Ogata's first. Youth had not possessed him, so he was still relishing the heady euphoria of a hard-on pressing roughly against the confines of his pants. But, he knew the thrill of it would wear off and sheer want would drive his thoughts. If Yashiro was there, perhaps he'd be willing... And, suddenly, Ogata's pants felt even tighter. Though it was only a few kilometers, it promised to be a very long drive.

****

When Yashiro awoke the next morning, he sat up abruptly, and then took a slow glance around. No wonder it hadn't felt like his room. It wasn't. The memories of the previous night came segueing back slowly. His backside was sore, his jaw ached, and his hips bore bruises, but he didn't regret any of it. For all that the time he'd had with Hikaru and Akira had been amazing, he'd had something even greater: experience. Perhaps Ogata was not as naturally skilled with his fingers as his friends had been, but there was a wealth of knowledge about where to apply those fingers that had kept Yashiro occupied through most of the night. He'd been a willing accomplice to the passion, and would never regret it. They'd taken precautions and it had been, well, a lot of fun. Yashiro pulled his knees up to his chest and pressed them there to hold the sheet in place. He looked at his hands and pictured them as they'd been the night before: inquisitive and wanting and searching.

Ogata entered the room with a tray. "I've brought you breakfast. And so the very idea of it doesn't make you sick as it did me this morning, I've brought some ibuprofen. It should also help with the soreness."

Yashiro smiled and gladly accepted the tray. For some reason, Ogata didn't look the same this morning. He wore the same clothes as he always did... Well, perhaps getting laid took the perverted look off his face. Yashiro giggled at the thought.

Ogata came over and sat on the bed next to him, smoothing down a bit of Yashiro's hair as he knocked back the ibuprofen with a gulp of orange juice. "What's so funny?"

Looking over at Ogata, Yashiro smiled again. "I was just thinking that getting laid was exactly what you needed."

"I thought the same thing of you last night," Ogata said. 

Yashiro took another sip of orange juice and nibbled at a piece of buttered toast. "You weren't wrong, but don't think it would have been just anybody. I think, at first, it would have been, but I wouldn't have come home with anyone else, I don't think." He looked at Ogata who smiled at him and wiped a toast crumb off his cheek.


End file.
